


The Boyfriend

by c_r_roberts



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:05:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3790846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c_r_roberts/pseuds/c_r_roberts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta Mellark is the perfect boyfriend.  Too perfect, in her opinion. People are supposed to have flaws.  It takes a blizzard, a canceled flight, and bad cell phone reception to discover Peeta’s flaw.</p><p>It’s her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boyfriend

Peeta Mellark is a good guy. He's kind, and funny, and when he makes a joke, it's usually at his own expense rather than anyone else's. He buys rounds of drinks when they're all out together, no questions asked. He isn't afraid to watch movies other than ones with guns and war and super heroes. He's familiar with current events, and can argue policy, foreign and domestic, better than most, but also knows when to bite his tongue if he's around the wrong people.

And he undeniably, unfailingly, wholeheartedly loves his girlfriend.

They're high school sweethearts. One of those sickeningly sweet couples who won the _most likely to get married_ superlative and made it through four years apart at different colleges. Who, at the age of 24, still giggle and laugh like they're 15-year-olds.

Madge loves Peeta, that much is obvious. Everyone loves Peeta.

Everyone except Katniss.

Because Peeta's always over. Cooking dinner. Watching _The Walking Dead_ and _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ with them on Sunday nights. Spending weeks on end practically living at their apartment. Using their bathroom. Showering. Sheepishly grinning at Katniss when she accidentally barges in on him brushing his teeth in just a towel.

Sure, he always asks her if it's okay that he's around so much. And he tries to include her, and make her feel welcome, as much as possible.

But his sincere concern for her well-being just makes him more annoying. He bugs her. No one is _that_ good, no one is _that_ nice. No one is _that_ disarmingly charming.

People are supposed to have flaws.

It takes a snowy night in January, Madge's canceled flight home from New York, and bad cell phone reception to discover Peeta's flaw.

It's her.

He shows up at their door, hair covered in snow, the crystals melting on his shoulders, his cheeks pink, nose red, and eyes as blue as they always are. And he smiles guiltily when Katniss opens up the door, already in comfortable clothing, her hair plaited messily, a beer in her hand and a frozen pizza in the oven.

"I thought I'd surprise Madge," he says.

Katniss frowns. "She's not coming home tonight. Didn't she tell you?"

It's Peeta's turn to frown, pulling off his gloves to reach into his pocket for his phone. "Oh," he says distractedly, looking down at his screen. "I don't get service on the train. I guess she did."

"Sorry," Katniss tells him lamely, leaning against the door frame and sipping her beer as she takes in Peeta's broad frame. He'd be more attractive if he weren't so perfect, with his classically handsome bone structure, bright eyes that reflect warmth, and real, noticeable dimples when he smiles. She's not made of stone—her disdain for his appearance doesn't mean she's not affected by it.

"You look set for the night," Peeta comments as she swallows her drink of beer.

"I figured I'd stay in and make a date with the television, with the snow and all," she shrugs, telling herself she doesn't care if she's been caught wearing her pajamas, even though it's barely six on a Friday night. "Is it bad out there yet?"

Peeta scrunches his nose, absently looking toward the window at the end of the apartment building's hallway. "It's definitely starting to stick. But it's not terrible, yet. Though I should probably get going, if I want to make it back before the roads get too bad." He turns back to her, with a grin. "Sorry to interrupt date night."

It's the grin that makes him so infuriating. It's just so…distracting. And innocent. But _not_ innocent, too.

And unnecessary. It's also unnecessary.

She sighs audibly when he turns to leave. Katniss knows the weather's terrible. Everyone left work early, trying to beat the storm, and even then, the Metro trains were already running on a delay. With Peeta living across town, it could take him hours to get home.

"You know you can come in. If you want."

Peeta turns back around too quickly to be nonchalant, and he raises his brow at the invitation. It makes her smile despite herself.

"I'm pretty sure I can't drink an entire 12-pack or eat a whole pizza by myself," she explains, like the situation warrants one. "So, if you don't want to brave the elements, you can just stay here."

Madge, who flew to New York for her _very important interview_ , is now scheduled to take the first flight home tomorrow morning and should be home early, and it's not like Peeta doesn't have half of his belongings scattered about their apartment anyway.

"So you're saying I have the option of A," Peeta starts with amused eyes and yet another lopsided smile, "eating pizza, drinking beer, and watching Netflix with you, or B, potentially dying from hypothermia in the biggest blizzard of the decade?"

She rolls her eyes. "You might be safer braving the blizzard."

Peeta's grin just widens, and he gestures for her to move aside and let him in. "As dangerous as you are, if you don't mind, I think I'll take my chances here with you."

***

"What are you watching tonight?" Peeta asks, settling himself on one end of the sofa. He places his beer on the end table next to him, pushing up the sleeves of his thick, hunter green wool sweater.

Katniss plops herself down on the other end, reaching for the remote. "I hadn't decided yet," she lies, not wanting to tell him she'd been intending on watching _Pitch Perfect_ , her guiltiest of guilty pleasure movies. She presses a button and the screen of the TV mounted on the opposite wall lights up, coming to life. "Do you have anything you want to watch?"

Peeta finishes his drink of beer before directing his eyes across the room to the small media shelf that sits in the corner by the window. "Well, since you asked. What about going old school tonight?"

Katniss looks at him curiously out of the corner of her eye. The oven beeps once, indicating there's a minute left on the timer. "What are you thinking?" she asks, getting back up to attend to the pizza. Their apartment is bigger than most, thanks to Madge and her Congressman father, but it still only takes a few steps to reach their tiny kitchen, which is really just a wall of cabinets, the requisite appliances, and a small island set up on the other side of the room.

"You own all five seasons of _The Wire_ , don't you?" His voice carries across the apartment, sounding hopeful. Peeta chuckles when she turns around to give him another curious look. "I mean, I've seen them sitting over there, on that shelf. And they look like they're dying to be watched."

"You want to watch _The Wire_?" she asks skeptically, drumming her fingers against the countertop, impatiently waiting as the timer ticks off its last 15 seconds.

"I want to re-watch _The Wire_ ," he corrects. "I haven't seen it since college. But it's one of my favorites."

Peeta being a fan of McNulty and D'Angelo Barksdale and all of her favorite characters makes her heart feel like it's grown two sizes in a matter of seconds. The timer beeps, and Katniss lets it, turning back around to give him a real, genuine smile.

"We can definitely re-watch _The Wire._ "

***

"The second season's my favorite," Peeta explains through a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni and dough that has a consistency similar to cardboard. Though paired with the beer, the cheap frozen aisle pizza tastes just fine to her. And considering Peeta's on his third piece, he must not mind it terribly either.

Katniss shakes her head vigorously. "No. This season. The first season is the best. Besides, I can't look at Nick Sobotka any more knowing he turns out to be the creepy C.O. with the moustache on _Orange is the New Black._ "

Peeta laughs, and tips his beer to her. "And now, neither will I."

"I'm here to help," she shrugs. "So," she says, picking up her second piece of pizza from her plate, "Madge wouldn't watch this with you, huh?" Katniss leans back into her seat and bites into her food, smirking at Peeta as she chews. She knows her roommate. They've been best friends since junior year of college. Madge would never watch this show.

"She refuses," Peeta says, his tone a cross between amusement and frustration. "Says it's too close to home."

Katniss shakes her head, turning her attention back to the screen just as D'Angelo—the young, wise-beyond-his-years, somehow endearing yet ill-fated drug dealer—is released from jail after being acquitted of murder charges. "I've tried too. The whole 'you're missing out on good television and an incredibly good looking detective' angle didn't work either."

Peeta smirks. "So that's your type, huh? Tall, dark, handsome, and super fucked up?"

She swallows hard before she scowls, reaching for her beer. "Madge and I have incredibly different taste in men."

Peeta laughs, taking another sip of his beer, letting the rim of the bottle linger on his lips as he does. "Are you saying I'm none of those things?"

He asks the question playfully, feigning hurt, but his eyes sparkle in an unexpected way when she looks over at him.

"I don't know," she shrugs, attempting not to notice his gaze, or the way her stomach flip flops under it, blaming the mix of beer and pizza instead. "You might be super fucked up. Good guys like you always do seem to carry the biggest secrets."

It's easier to make a joke of it, since it's a dumb question anyway. Peeta surely knows that despite not being tall, or dark, he's certainly handsome.

***

Four winter ales later, Peeta changes into his own pair of pajama pants, stored away in one of Madge's extra dresser drawers, but keeps them paired with the sweater. Katniss curls her feet up underneath her, shaking her head at him when he comes back to the couch. The pizza's long gone, and they're five episodes into _The Wire_ , with only one quick intermission for a phone call from Madge. And the snow continues to fall, harder and faster, though neither of them pay much attention, other than peeking out the window once or twice to check out the accumulation.

"What?" Peeta says, looking down at himself self-consciously.

Katniss snorts, because it's not his looks she's questioning. He looks more than good dressed the way he's dressed. It's almost unfair, really.

"Nothing," she starts to assure him. "Well, not nothing. But you look fine."

"What's not nothing?" he asks with a lazy smile, a soft haze to his eyes telling her he's probably feeling the effects of the beer.

"It's just…" She pauses, realizing she's tipsy too. Though she didn't realize that being tipsy meant being on a suicide mission of honesty.

"Spit it out," he teases, retaking his seat on the sofa.

"Why don't you two move in together already? You're always here anyway, and half the stuff in this apartment is yours."

Peeta groans, screwing up his face and shaking his head, clearly embarrassed. "Oh god, I knew me being here all the time bothered you. I try to get Madge to come to my place, but she always complains because it's so far off the Metro line. And she hates my roommate."

"It's not that," Katniss lies quickly, because it is sort of that. "But haven't you been together for, like, a decade now? Shouldn't you be…pulling the trigger and proposing or something?"

"Did Madge put you up to this?" Peeta asks, narrowing his eyes. Although the way they dance as he stares at her makes the action decidedly unthreatening.

Katniss still scowls, wishing she'd never said anything in the first place. "No! Honestly, we don't really talk about you, much to your dismay." She picks up her beer from the coffee table, taking a healthy sip. If she fills her mouth with alcohol, then she won't be able to put her foot in it.

"You're right, you not talking about me is really upsetting," Peeta deadpans.

"Look, I'm sorry I asked, I was just curious. It doesn't seem like there's anything stopping you, that's all."

Peeta sighs, his expression turning more serious. And a little sour, if she's reading him correctly. "Maybe you should talk to Madge more," is all he suggests.

Then Peeta gets up from the sofa to grab new beers, not bothering to ask if she wanted a new one. She watches him cross the room to the refrigerator and back, still mad at herself for being stupid enough to bring up the subject of marriage. What is wrong with her? It's not any of her business. And she doesn't even really care, anyway. Except that when it happens, she'll need to find a new roommate. And she'll no longer be able to afford such a great apartment in such a great location on her Hill staffer salary. So really, Peeta Mellark can take all the time he wants to propose to Madge Undersee. Even if it means she has to worry about wearing more than underwear when she gets up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, in case of an accidental run in. The trade off seems worth it.

"Why don't we turn the tables around on you, see how you like it?" he challenges, handing her the winter ale, which she accepts without protest. "I've known you for years now, and in all of that time, you've never had a serious boyfriend. What's stopping you?"

"You mean other than the fact that there isn't exactly a line of eligible men banging down my door?" she scoffs.

"You scare them away," he says, sliding back down into his seat one over from hers on the sofa.

"Excuse me?"

Peeta smirks at her. "You're really pretty, Katniss. And also really intimidating," he tells her so plainly and reasonably she almost wonders if it's true. "Do you have any idea, how many guys I've watched try to get up the courage to talk to you, only for you to completely blow them off?"

Katniss makes a face. What is he talking about? And also, why does it matter? Especially to _Peeta_?

"First of all, you're wrong. And second of all, is that supposed to be romantic? Complete strangers just walking up to you and trying to hit on you? Am I supposed to like that?"

He sighs. "Yes, that's exactly what I was trying to say," Peeta shakes his head at her, like she's a lost cause. "Katniss, you affect people, and it's like you don't even care."

"Why do _you_ care?" she asks, feeling a burn in her cheeks, taking a deep sip of beer in an attempt to cool it. All it does is make her more lightheaded, and she realizes she's reached the point of inebriation where it's difficult to keep her thoughts from rolling off her tongue. "Because I didn't exactly ask for your opinion."

"You're right."

Katniss narrows her eyes, suspicious of Peeta's acquiescence. She drinks from her beer again, and then the word vomit expels from her uncontrollably. "Not all girls are like Madge, you know. We don't all live and breathe for boys, or our boyfriends, or think it's some sort of fairytale to meet our future husbands at fifteen." Peeta sets his jaw and shifts his weight in his seat, but he only responds with silence, which allows her to keep going. "I like who I am. And when the right guy comes along, if he ever does, he'll just have to figure out something better than a lame pick up line to get my attention."

"Do you really mean that?" His voice is eerily soft, and the way he's staring at her makes her mouth go dry. It's his eyes. Peeta has really blue eyes. She'd known they were blue, sure, but she's never truly noticed them, and how powerful they can be, until right now.

"What?" she asks in a confused, exasperated breath.

"Do you. Really. Mean that." He sits up straighter as he repeats himself, inching toward her and encroaching on her personal space.

"Yes," she says, nodding her head, swallowing the nervous lump that forms in her throat at his growing proximity. Of course she means it. When it comes to interacting with the opposite sex, she and Madge Undersee couldn't possibly be any more different.

Apparently, Peeta likes her answer, because he nods, leaning even further into her. "Good," he murmurs, just as his mouth meets hers.

Feeling Peeta's lips on hers is…shocking. And her first reaction is to jerk away, to push him off of her, and yell and ask him _what the hell he thinks he's doing?_ But her second reaction, the physical, involuntary one, follows much too quickly, and it overpowers any and all of her rational thoughts as his hands cup her face and hold her to him, his mouth warm and determined against hers.

And then she lets it happen. More than lets—because she kisses him back. Even slides her tongue past his lips when he opens his mouth to breathe, and closes her eyes, lost in some sort of confused, drunken fog.

It feels good.

She shouldn't like it so much. She's at least aware of that. It's not like she's ignoring that Madge is her best friend and roommate and Peeta Mellark is Madge's incredibly serious, incredibly long-term boyfriend.

She knows it's incredibly wrong of her to be kissing him.

But he's also an incredibly good kisser.

In her own defense, it feels like she can't stop it. The warmth of his mouth, the electricity behind his touch, the knot of energy in the pit of her stomach—all of it's impossible to control.

Peeta can't seem to stop himself either as he shifts his weight into her. She accepts the sturdiness of his chest pressed up against hers, and his arms, which move to snake around her waist. They're quickly slipping into dangerous, more-than kissing territory, but he smells so good—fresh and crisp, and slightly sweet. It's as if there's an imaginary force field pulling her into him, and she's unable to break it.

His fingers skim the small of her back, and an embarrassingly soft moan escapes her lips. The noise only makes Peeta's mouth even more determined, and he drags it along her jaw, dipping his chin to press fervent kisses to her neck. The sensation makes her stomach swoop so hard it aches, and her hands run themselves along the thick, scratchy material of his sweater, feeling his strong muscles hidden beneath it. She reaches to hold on to him between his shoulder blades, and momentum rocks him forward until she's on her back with Peeta Mellark on top of her, sucking her pulse point while she runs her fingers through his thick, neat, blond hair.

One of his hands drifts to her abdomen, ghosting along the hem of her shirt, reaching for bare skin. She bites her bottom lip, her hips arching without her consent. Peeta lets out a low, warm hiss, shifting to meet her with his hardening erection that's easily detectable through the thin flannel of his sleep pants.

He feels so good. _Too_ good. Five minutes ago, she didn't even know she wanted this, but now, just a few kisses later, Katniss isn't sure she's ever wanted something— _someone_ —more in her life.

And well, it's pretty clear he wants her too.

Every bone in her body hates her brain, and it's like she's fighting a war, with her limbs reacting to him while her mind screams against him. _She can't want Peeta. He's not hers to want. This has to stop._

Right. This has to stop. Even if he kisses better than any guy she's ever kissed, and his hands on her skin make her feel more alive than she's ever felt.

"Peeta, wait," she whispers, squeezing her eyes closed tightly and finally forcing the words out. His lips freeze against the crook of her neck. "What are we doing?"

Katniss feels Peeta sigh, and he places a soft kiss right below her ear before he speaks.

"Something better than a lame pick up line?" he croaks weakly.

It's Katniss's turn to freeze, unable to move as Peeta pulls back, and his gaze shifts nervously before meeting her eyes. She watches as his hand moves from beneath her shirt to the back of his neck, scratching it as he grimaces.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I…I just, had to kiss you."

He looks as scared and confused as she feels. Then Peeta takes a deep breath, and rocks his weight back, finding the seat he'd previously occupied before they'd ended up prone on the sofa. The sofa Katniss co-bought with his girlfriend. The girlfriend Katniss likes to call her best friend. The girlfriend Peeta's supposed to be madly in love with; the girlfriend, who, up until this moment, Katniss thought had Peeta wrapped around her finger. She pushes herself up too, curling her knees up against her chest, watching him dumbly because she still has no idea what just happened between them.

Peeta swallows thickly. "You have to…well, you don't have to _anything._ I know that. But, I don't cheat on Madge, okay?"

Katniss forces herself to shake her head at him, pressing her lips into a hard frown. They still taste like him—warm, and hoppy with a hint of spice from the beer they'd spent the past two hours polishing off.

"I'm pretty sure you just did."

His face falls. Because it's true. This is a betrayal. On both of their parts—she's just as guilty as he is.

"She's my friend, Peeta. My best friend, and I, I can't—"

"I can't either," he hisses, cutting her off. "I can't do it anymore, Katniss. I needed to find out, okay?" The desperation in his voice at least makes sense, but his words just confuse her. Almost as much as the way his eyes won't let hers go.

"Find out what?" she asks after a moment of heavy silence. He still doesn't speak right away. It's unusual for Peeta to be so quiet—he's typically so well spoken. Then again, what can he possibly say right now that will make any of this better?

"You're going to hate me," he finally murmurs, dropping her gaze and shaking his head. "This is the dumbest thing I've ever done, because I know you're going to hate me." He takes a deep breath, pulling his eyes back up to hers.

"Katniss, I can't stop thinking about you."

Her throat goes dry, and panic sets in as her heart starts to thump against her chest. She's frozen, unable to speak, or move, or stop the words from tumbling, slightly incoherently, out of Peeta's mouth.

"I've spent the past two years, maybe longer, trying to stop. I know it makes me a jerk, a horrible person, a terrible boyfriend. But there's nothing I can do—there's just, I can't describe it. Katniss, when I come over here, I'm excited to see _you._ I like spending time with _you._ And it's torture. I have a great girlfriend, who I trust, and love, and I've been with her for so long it's hard to imagine life without her. But I also have this debilitating, soul-crushing need for her best friend that won't go away."

Peeta looks back up at her, and his eyes have a wild look to them—full of fear, and guilt, and pain.

"Oh god," he moans at her expression, which must be showing her own bewilderment. "I'm scaring you so much right now."

She's not scared, but she certainly has no idea what's happening any more. Well, other than that Peeta's pretty drunk. And he's rambling. And he's saying a bunch of things he should definitely not be saying.

"Stop," she says softly, but more forcefully than she's expecting to sound, holding up her hand. Peeta's face is drained of color, the flush his cheeks had just moments ago completely gone, and he looks like he may even throw up. None of that stops her. "You can't do this. You can't, Peeta."

It's that simple. He opens his mouth to speak, but she shakes him off. "You can't kiss me. And you definitely can't tell me you _like_ me. I…you…we—we can't do this!"

Her voice rises as the anger washes over her. She's angry with Peeta, of course. She's angry he has the audacity to say these things to her right now, like they're some sort of romantic declaration and not the words of a cheating boyfriend. But she's even angrier with herself, and with the way Peeta's confession is affecting her in ways that she can never, ever admit out loud. Peeta's not the only one who's taken too much time noticing someone he wasn't supposed to.

Katniss takes a deep breath, the air heaving in and out of her lungs as she watches Peeta wipe his hand over his mouth. "What were you thinking?" she asks more quietly now, putting a hand to her temple in an effort to calm the conflicting thoughts swimming around in her head.

"I don't know," he admits, his face contorting in pain. "I guess I thought that maybe…maybe if you felt even a little bit like I did, then—"

"—Then what? You'd just break up with Madge, for me, her roommate and friend, and we'd go off and live happily ever after, no questions asked?"

Peeta blinks his eyes closed, rolling his head back and slumping into the couch cushions, defeated. "I told you this is the dumbest thing I've ever done."

"It really is," she agrees, shaking her head at him. For so many reasons.

"So what do we do now?"

Katniss sighs, pushing herself up from her seat, wishing Peeta's eyes weren't following her movements as she picks up the empty bottles on the coffee table. "We don't do anything," she says as calmly, and plainly, as she can. "Ever again."

She stares at him pointedly until he swallows hard, nodding in understanding.

Then Katniss takes the few steps to the kitchen, dumping the bottles in the recycling bin, welcoming the crashing, clanking noises as they fall. It's better than the suffocating silence that fills the room. How could they have let this happen? And what other choice is there, really, other than to pretend that it didn't?

When she spins back around, Peeta's standing. His fists are clenched at his sides, and he's shifting his weight awkwardly, unable to meet her gaze.

"I should…I should probably go."

"Peeta," she sighs again, not caring about the tired annoyance she hears in her voice. "It's midnight, it's five degrees outside, and there's two feet of snow on the ground. You're not going anywhere."

He looks at her, dumbfounded. And with just a little bit of hope in her eyes too. Until she makes it disappear with the next words out of her mouth.

"But I'm going to bed, and you probably should too. And I'm going to assume that tonight was just a dumb, drunken mistake and nothing more. We need to forget it ever happened, okay?"

And then she turns to leave before he can say something stupid that might make her stay.

***

Katniss spends the majority of the night tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. She hears the light padding of Peeta's feet as he retreats to Madge's bedroom a half hour after she left him standing in the living area, and screws her eyes closed. She knows what she told him was a complete lie, and that she'll never be able to forget the way his lips felt against hers, or the way his breath on her neck sent incorrigible shivers down her spine.

And his words—the ones he used to tell her he can't stop thinking about her—play over and over in her head, like some insufferable catchy song that won't leave her alone.

How the hell is she going to look him, or worse, Madge, in the eye ever again?

Sleep finally comes before any answers do.

***

She sleeps well past her normal wake up time. But she fell asleep so late last night that she doesn't mind. And with the snow, she can't even think about going for her usual Saturday morning run. In fact, there's no way she can go anywhere, with most of the businesses surely closed, or at least on a few hours' delay. Besides, her blankets and pillows are comfortable, and she's safe in them.

Beyond her room, beyond the door, that's where things get dangerous.

Katniss finally gives in after at least an hour of lying wide-awake in bed, but only because she needs to pee. And she needs a glass of water, preferably with two aspirin to go with it.

She exits the small bathroom down the hall after brushing her teeth and splashing water on her face, smoothing her hair with a grimace as she stares at her reflection in the mirror. She's a mess, with ragged dark circles under her gray eyes, her olive complexion looking washed out from exhaustion. Katniss shakes her head at herself. What does it matter what she looks like anyway?

She hears muffled noises coming from the kitchen, but only startles when she hears Madge's light, cheerful giggle. And she stops dead in her tracks, right there in the doorway between the hallway and the common area, when she sees them. She watches her roommate throw her head back into his shoulder, staring blankly as Peeta wraps his arms around her waist from behind, clearly having done or said something to make the blonde girl grin and laugh as they stand in front of the stove, cooking what smells like eggs and bacon.

It's nothing out of the ordinary, for Peeta and Madge to cook breakfast together on the weekends. In fact, Katniss usually never minds when this happens, because they always make enough for her to eat too. But this morning is different. Although it doesn't really hit her until she hears Peeta's low chuckle as he kisses his girlfriend sweetly on the top of her head.

This should be a good thing—the normalcy, their intimacy, nothing disrupted in their routine. It means he decided to take her advice and forget that last night happened. At least the way he smiles warmly at Katniss, without even a hint of guilt in his eyes, when he realizes she's there too makes her think that's what he's doing. He's back to being the good guy. The guy who's completely and totally in love with his girlfriend. The perfect boyfriend. Or well, the _almost_ perfect boyfriend.

But absolutely nothing about this scenario—watching Peeta interact with his girlfriend of almost ten years, her best friend—is good. Even though this is what should be happening, and what needs to happen, she wants to hate Peeta for it. She _should_ hate Peeta for putting her in this position, and for actually being able to forget so quickly.

But she can't.

Because she's pretty sure that in the span of twelve hours, six beers, ten minutes of kissing, and one agonizing night of barely sleeping, she's developed a debilitating, soul-crushing need for him instead.

***  
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_A/N: This was originally submitted for Prompts in Panem Round 7, Day 7 (March 2015). I've expanded it into a full length WiP because I couldn't let the story for these two end there. Thank you for reading! I hope to publish chapter 2 soon(ish), but in the mean time, feel free to bug me on tumblr where you can find me @ hashtagpeeta._


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